Momentary Glances
by SalamanderLights
Summary: ONESHOT. "The cat was looking at him again. That damn feline with its wide cinnamon eyes and forever constant grace. The way she looked at him, if only fleetingly before settling her eyes on other prey, made him jumpy." Written for Twin Exchange Monthly Challenge – October 2012 title swap.


**__****Twin Exchange Monthly Challenge - October 2012 title swap** - Momentary Glances, suggested by Drkness'sDaughter.  


Disclaimer - JK owns all.

The cat was looking at him again.

That damn feline with its wide cinnamon eyes and forever constant grace. The way she looked at him, if only fleetingly before settling her eyes on other prey, made him jumpy. And he was never jumpy. The kitten looked ready to pounce on the first person she took a liking too. Good thing he wasn't allergic.

To _sex kittens, _that is.

Was she, this sexual goddess – like everyone else in attendance at 12 Grimauld Place that Halloween – shocked that he had indulged the rumours about himself and come as a vampire? Or was it just the fact that he had dressed up at all? Not that it made much of a difference. But still, he had almost made an effort. Dumbledore and his candy coated threats – literally, he was persuaded upon pain of sugar – were to blame for that and his attendance at the party in the first place.

As he cast a glance toward her – the woman whom had deemed it fit to don a leather skirt and fishnet tights in the midst of the fearsome Weasley matriarch and other Order members – their eyes met, causing her to spin away with such ferocity that her curled hair, in which rested a pair of cat ears, whipped out around her.

He'd played this game before. They would be surrounded by friends and family. They would look away when the other glanced at them. They would eye each other up whist the other was supposedly preoccupied. They would find themselves in an empty room. They wouldn't speak. They would act. They would commit acts of such a carnal nature that they should be illegal. Then they would go back to the crowd as if nothing happened.

Well not this time.

No more momentary glances.

Gracing the shadows around the edge of the room with his presence, the man dressed in the black cloak, high collared blood red shirt and fangs made his way towards his feline prey. She wouldn't be choosing any other zombie, ghost, wizard or pumpkin tonight. If he had his way, she never would again.

As she tentatively peeked his way again he made his move, strutting straight across the dance floor and to her side. Her eyes grew wide as he approached, like a cat caught in the crossfire of a duel. Looking into their depths you could tell she was trying to work out why he had broken their unwritten code.

Caring not for the eyes of the witches, wizards and zombies around them he touched her elbow, whispered lowly in her ear and steered her from the room. Heading to the pantry, it was him and his familiar in an empty room and he was oh so familiar with _that_ scenario.

She looked up at him again, this time with a worried expression. Did people see them leave? Were they too obvious? Did any of it matter when his lips lowered to hers?

He had always found it amusing when she mewled like a cat in his arms, but now, on this Halloween as the object of his obsession had indeed drawn whiskers upon herself, he almost cracked a smile.

They had no need for petty communication as they fell into the routine of their previous encounters. Speech wasn't necessary when you had taste, sight, sound and touch. Words meant talking, and that meant feelings would get involved. He didn't do feelings.

But, as they fell into a whirlpool of lust and sin, he remembered why he had so blatantly dragged his sex kitten away from the crowd; he wanted her, and only her. Secret rendezvous were the stuff of hookers and film stars, not vampires and cats. Why should it be hidden that she was so brazen for him, and hopefully soon, him alone? Why should he deny the fact that he had licked, kissed and touched every part of the delicious body presently before him?

And why, oh why, could he only ever throw glances at the young woman across a room? Should he not be allowed to just strut up to her, pick her up, and carry her off like a Neanderthal? Indeed, it _would_ ruin his reputation; he was far from primitive. But then, wasn't she worth it? And wasn't he worth it for her? Or was the truth that they were both too uncertain about the other's feelings to do more than speculatively look into each other's eyes and nod towards the door?

Well, apart from his rather brave – if he did say so himself – display of marching up to her in the kitchen just moments ago that is. It had to be a sign. Things were changing. Well, for him to be snogging in a pantry next to a room full of zombies, something _had_ to have changed.

And that was how Molly Weasley found them; naked and knee deep in sin. There would be no more momentary glances from the shadows of the room for Hermione Granger and Severus Snape.

Their secret was out.


End file.
